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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233630">Just get what’s on the list.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassdoesstuff05/pseuds/Sassdoesstuff05'>Sassdoesstuff05</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Just get what’s on the list [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempt at Humor, Awkward Yams, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Grocery Shopping, Humor, Internal Monologue, Late-night shopping, M/M, Yamaguchi Tadashi is So Done, Yamaguchi Tadashi is Tired, Yamaguchi Tadashi-centric, Yamaguchi can't handle pretty people, Yamaguchi goes late-night grocery shopping, no beta we die like men, tsukkiyama if you squint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:35:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,738</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassdoesstuff05/pseuds/Sassdoesstuff05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“There you are,” he said aloud, grabbing the Purely O’s which looked like Cheerios but tasted like cardboard. </p><p>“Screw you,” he said, throwing them in the cart roughly. <i> I hope the box gets a dent and you feel the pain I feel everytime I have to shovel you in my mouth, expecting the sweet taste of Cheerios but getting the taste of cardboard and- <i></i></i></p><p> </p><p>  <i><br/>    <i>“Excuse me?” a voice from behind him asked. </i><br/>  </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i><br/>    <i>Or</i><br/>  </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i><br/>    <i>The late-night grocery shopping fic with Yamaguchi that nobody asked for</i><br/>  </i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Just get what’s on the list [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>208</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just get what’s on the list.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh my god i wrote this yesterday, posted, took it down, and then put it back up today. Enjoy~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Just get what’s on the list. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s Yamaguchi’s first thought as he enters the grocery store, pushing an empty cart slowly. It was late, the clock just hitting 9pm as he walked in. Work felt slower than usual today, the electronics company wasn’t always a fun place to be. As soon as he got home and washed up he collapsed onto his bed, taking a well-deserved nap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He woke up with a hungry stomach and a mostly-empty fridge (unless you count the empty-but-there-was-still-a-little-bit-in-there peanut butter jar, a small bowl of broccoli, and a single cheese stick). When he turned to his cabinets, all he found was some mediocre (but healthy) cereal, a few spices, sugar, tea packets, and the wrapper of some peanut-butter cups which he secretly ate in his own apartment and hid out of shame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yamaguchi briefly considered calling in for some food (meaning he laid down on his bed, eyes glued to various menus he had screenshotted) but then realized that it would be irresponsible to order food when he was trying to save money. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not going broke eating half-decent pizza or chinese food. No, not this bitch. Nope. Uh-uh. Does that fried rice look good? Yes. Do I want to put my pants on and go to the grocery store? No. Will I do it anyways? Yes. I am a responsible adult. You know what? I’m even gonna make a list of everything I need. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, he put on some jeans, wrote out a list (</span>
  <em>
    <span>with a pen</span>
  </em>
  <span>), and made his way out the door to walk to the nearest grocery store. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time to be an adult,” he mumbled as he scanned  the produce section, the word ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>apples</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ replaying in his brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell,” he muttered aloud as he realized that organic apples were around </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice</span>
  </em>
  <span> the price of the ones that weren’t organic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m trying to feed myself, not break my bank account, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, gently placing a few apples in a plastic bag. He hadn’t been careful in the past and just thrown them in, bruising some. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>An apple a day keeps the doctor away. And their scary medical bills. I like doctors. Doctors are great. Whenever I got a shot the doctor gave me a cute sticker. Sure they don’t do that anymore, but that’s because I’m an adult. I don’t like hospitals though and their mean, mean bills. The saying should be an apple a day keeps the medical bills away. Much more relatable. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked around the store, not even seeing an employee walking around. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Huh, creepy. Like a ghost town. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cereal time,” he mumbled, slowly dragging his cart to the cereal section. He eyed the cereals with bright logos and chocolate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I would kill for some Golden Grahams and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. However, those were not on the list. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the list was a different healthy, tasteless cereal in a box which he didn’t want to associate himself with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, pushing forward to the healthier cereals. He stopped, finding the place he would normally look before scanning the shelves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are,” he said aloud, grabbing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Purely O’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>which looked like Cheerios but tasted like cardboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Screw you,” he said, throwing them in the cart roughly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hope the box gets a dent and you feel the pain I feel everytime I have to shovel you in my mouth, expecting the sweet taste of Cheerios but getting the taste of cardboard and-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” a voice from behind him asked. Yamaguchi jumped, turning around to find a tall, tall blonde staring at him menacingly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where did he come from? Oh my god what did I do to deserve this. Why is he so tall? Why does he look so scary? What does he look so pretty? Oh god, Universe, please! I’ve avoided tall, scary, pretty people all my life this isn’t fair. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Yamaguchi squeaked, slowly waving his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just say ‘screw you’ to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p><span>“Ah, no I was just talking to-” Yamaguchi is silent for a second. He couldn’t say box of cereal. This guy was gonna think he was </span><em><span>insane.</span></em> <em><span>Hi, yes I was just telling my box of cereal to go screw itself. I also think you’re really intimidating and pretty and I’m really scared of those kinds of people. I swear I’m not crazy, I just want some food. </span></em></p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” the blonde asked, crossing his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My friend!” he said quickly, “on the phone,” he clarified, feeling his pocket for his phone to hold it up as proof. He only felt his wallet and the little, foldable reusable shopping bag. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh shoot, did I leave my phone at home? Stupid, stupid, stupid. How did I remember my bag but not my phone?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You weren’t holding a phone when you said it,” the boy pointed out, lips twitching upwards in amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just thinking out loud then,” Yamaguchi said, feigning a laugh that was too loud to be normal, “well, sorry for the confusion, bye!” Yamaguchi quickly pushed his cart forward, trying to get out of the aisle as quickly as possible. He almost tripped when rounding the corner, jerking the cart a little too quickly forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shoot,” he muttered, looking for the next item on the list. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eggs.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Easy enough, right? He could probably find it near the refrigerated items section. He found a quite large selection and hummed in approval. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What an eggcellent selection this fine store has. I’m not even egg-zaggerating, the amount of eggs here is just egg-citing. These signs are really scrambling my brain. What do you think, life-size cardboard chicken cut-out? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yamaguchi watched as the cardboard cut-out stayed in one place, almost expecting an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop egg-noring me. I know they’re selling your children but you’re supposed to be a marketing tool so act like one. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard a snort from behind and turned in horror to find the same blonde staring at him, moving his cart to go to the other side of the refrigerated cooler that held the eggs. Yamaguchi caught sight of two boxes of the same strawberry cereal, strawberries, jam (most likely of the strawberry variety), and strawberry ice cream. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god, did I say that out loud? This is why I should’ve gotten a roommate. I really am going crazy living by myself. I’m going to be forever alone with one dog and my thoughts, aren’t I? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yamaguchi watched as he opened an egg carton, inspecting the eggs for damage, before putting them in his cart. They made eye contact for a short second and Yamaguchi looked away, eyes focusing on the eggs. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How do I keep bumping into the one person in this whole god-darn grocery store? Like I have not seen another soul in this whole place. What if he’s a ghost? Or a vampire? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From what he’d seen the other boy was pale, really pale. And blonde. With glasses. And he was tall. And pretty. And intimidating. Based on the items in his cart, he also apparently liked strawberries.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grabbed a carton of eggs himself, opening them for a split second before putting them in his cart, shaking away his thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew exactly where the good pasta was in the store from past experience. It was hard to find, located at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> back right next to the sauce. He grabbed both, putting in his cart happily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, yes you beautiful carb-filled star. I can’t wait to eat you with my broccoli. You’re going to make my depressing meal so much better. I think I’m gonna watch some anime while eating you. And I’m going to wash the dish I placed you in right after I eat. I’m not just going to leave you to ‘soak’.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Next on the list was coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to hell,” Yamaguchi said, throwing it in the cart. The man on the label stared back at him, disappointed. He immediately felt bad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ok, ok sorry. You did get me through a lot of rough all-nighters. You wake me up in the morning and make me a better person. There are just so many better options but you’re the only one I can afford. I know that makes me selfish, and I’m sorry. You deserve better. Someone who appreciates you, but you’re stuck with me. And you know what? I'll appreciate you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Yamaguchi said to the coffee, “I’ll appreciate you,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a few seconds it registered in his brain that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking</span>
  </em>
  <span> to an inanimate object. He didn’t care, though. He was tired and hungry. The two feelings combined were enough to make him feel temporarily fearless. So </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he talked to his food? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made his way to the frozen section, picking up some frozen veggie mix, not giving any of the ice-cream a second glance (</span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, maybe he did spend a few seconds looking at a Ben &amp; Jerry’s flavor that looked new. Sue him). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now for the less exciting carb, bread.  Don’t get him wrong, Yamaguchi loved bread, especially bread and butter. But, when compared to pasta, bread seemed kind of dull. He put it in his cart anyway, knowing he could probably make a good grilled cheese sandwich if he wanted to if he cut down his cheese stick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked through the aisles before it hit him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peanut butter. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s what he was forgetting before! He happily walked to the section dedicated to spread and bread, picking up a familiar jar of peanut butter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peanut, his life spread, and the sole reason for 57% of his happiness. The only thing holding his life together at this point was the sticky spread which he ate by the spoonful. It made up for the lack of greasy he fries ate, strictly because he hated what it did to his skin. Acne with freckles? That wasn’t exactly a cute look on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only, </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span>, thing better than peanut butter in Yamaguchi’s book was peanut-butter cups.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God yes dark chocolate with peanut butter. Who needs a life when you can have that? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He skipped to the candy aisle, forgetting the worries the day carried and just focusing on that sinfully delicious piece of food humankind had somehow crafted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he got there, though, hand reaching out to grab a jumbo packet, a tiny, </span>
  <em>
    <span>whiny</span>
  </em>
  <span>, annoying voice in his head said: </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not on the list.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yamaguchi quoted Shakespeare in his head, putting the bag back on the shelf.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yamaguchi gave the peanut butter cups a heartfelt look before pushing his mostly empty cart forward.</span>
  <em>
    <span> How I’ll miss you my sweet, sweet treasure. Stay safe and I’ll get you next time. We shall not be separated for long. I’ll find a way to get to you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait a minute, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, stopping the cart. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> having a rough day, wasn’t he? Didn’t he deserve some happiness? He turned around, focusing solely on the peanut-butter cups. He stared at them for a few moments, deciding if he really wanted to do this or not, ignoring his surroundings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you in my mouth,” Yamaguchi said, clutching the peanut-butter cups he’d always had a weakness for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna rip you open when we get home,” he said aloud, more confidently as he placed it in his cart, content. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you talking to the… peanut-butter cups?” a familiar voice from behind asked. Yamaguchi felt himself turn red as flinched at the voice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no, god, please, no. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Yamaguchi said in a false-happy tone, “again,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you talking to the peanut-butter cups?” the blonde asked again, smirking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Yamaguchi denied quickly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god, he’s onto me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you have no phone on. So that means you’re either talking to yourself or me,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, as of right now, unless your a figment of my imagination,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell why did you include that Tadashi turn your filter back on,</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I’m talking to you,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And before then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, um, just talking to…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god, he’s really gonna makes me admit it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>“myself,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blonde boy’s smirk slightly softened to a smile and Yamaguchi stared back awkwardly, taking in his whole appearance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit are his ears pierced? Oh god I must look like crap compared to him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yamaguchi glanced down at jeans and his t-shirt, instantly running a hair through his bedhead. The blonde boy stood there, arm crossed, his cart in front of him. Yamaguchi forced himself to look at the shelf, hoping that the other boy would move on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” Yamaguchi asked after what felt like a solid ten minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just waiting, take your time,” he said, adjusting his glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waiting for what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you to move out of the way?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Sorry!” Yamaguchi pushed his cart forward, gently bumping the other boy’s cart in his haste, “sorry,” he said again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” the boy said, letting out a small laugh. Yamaguchi stopped for a few seconds before turning around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not crazy,” he said, as the other boy put peanut-butter cups in his own cart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good to know,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just really tired and hungry,” Yamaguchi explained. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop! Stop talking! Shut up! Go pay for your stuff and leave! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes two of us,” Yamaguchi nodded his head at the boy, face flushed before going to the cash register. There was only one open so he walked down and found another person in the store, slowly paying for their own goods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...and then my granddaughter ended up adopting the dog and naming it ‘Hope’ because that’s what she felt when she first saw him. And after that…” Yamaguchi tapped his foot impatiently, sending an apologetic look to the cashier who was trying to seem engaged in the old woman’s conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a great story. Have a nice day!” the cashier said with a smile, motioning for the old woman to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you think that’s a great story you should hear about the time that Hope…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aaand this is just the overly-sweet frosting on the burnt cake, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yamaguchi thought, shooting daggers at the woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think the situation could get any worse or more tiresome.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blondie (or the blonde boy which he had subconsciously named in his head) decided that he too was done with grocery shopping and stood in line with his cart right behind Yamaguchi. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t start up a conversation. It’ll only lead to something awkward because you have no idea how to talk to tall, pretty people. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could feel the other boy staring at him so he turned around.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No! NO! NO YOU STUPID LITTLE-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, again,” Yamaguchi said for the third time, ignoring his brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take the next customer,” the cashier said, saving him from any awkward conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great!” he said a little too enthusiastically. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tone it down, Yams, geesh. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you find everything ok?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I got everything I need just fine. How are you?” Yamaguchi asked as the girl scanned his items.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, thanks. Paper or plastic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought my own bag,” he said cheerfully, pulling out a small tote that folded perfectly into a smaller bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” she said, sliding the items over as Yamaguchi carefully filled his bag. He put the pasta sauce, apples, veggie-packet, pasta, peanut butter, and coffee into his bag before requesting a plastic bag for his bread, eggs, cereal, and beloved peanut-butter cups. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She handed him a bag so he quickly paid and thanked her, making his way out of the store.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bags on his arms felt heavy and he was in constant fear of the plastic one snapping from the weight. The walk home felt long in the dark, almost dangerous.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop being a baby. What could possibly happen to you? Just get home so you can eat those wonderful, wonderful carbs and get to bed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard something in an alleyway as he walked passed and quickened his pace to a speed-walk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m not dying. Not today. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, he made it to his apartment, boiled his pasta, and sat in front of his computer watching anime as he slowly filled his stomach with food. He even treated himself to one (ok, fine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span>) peanut butter cups., the day’s embarrassments mostly forgotten.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: It’s 10pm, I’ve barely slept, I have school tomorrow, I have a quiz tomorrow, and I’m craving peanut butter. Part two is a definite maybe.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
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